


Hold Your Breath...

by impish_nature



Series: Nightmares [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, warning for panic attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 09:45:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7043071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impish_nature/pseuds/impish_nature
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ford has a lot of demons to deal with. Sometimes they can’t be dealt with alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Your Breath...

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Happy late birthday @garrulousgibberish! This took awhile but there is some lovely artwork as well from them for you all to enjoy 8D (Also sorry I haven’t been around to write lately friends, it’s been a bit...tiring to say the least for the last week or so and I’m not sure if it will get any better for a bit longer)
> 
> There is a code in this and I blame @yourlocalviking for making me want to play with them XD But working out the code isn’t necessary to read the fic ♥

He supposed he should be angry.

Ford took a deep breath in as he surveyed the recognisable area the latest portal had led him to. It should frustrate him, being on familiar ground. It had on many accounts done just that when he had found himself in unsavoury dimensions he had thought he was done with for good.

As it was, he couldn’t quite help the soft smile that formed on his face and continued to spread as his eyes scanned a familiar mountain range and the soft hum of wildlife took over his senses.

This was one of those dimensions that he often thought of fondly, one that if he had not been able to leave again he would have been quite happy to live out his days in.

But as with all things a portal had opened and his curiosity, and still small burning ember of a hope to one day get back to his home dimension, had taken what had been, and always would be, a euphoric rush into the unknown and plunged headfirst into the awaiting portal.

With all things considered he could use a break in a dimension that’s inhabitants on the most part did _not_ want to tear him to shreds.

_I shouldn’t be here though._

The thought came unbidden as if from another source other than his own head. It was quick and sharp, like a jagged siren piercing through the serene layer of familiarity he was building up around himself. His smile dropped into a dark frown as he turned around slowly, surveying everything.

Something nagged at the pit of his skull, a warning sound that all was not as it should be.

Yet everything was the same, it all looked peaceful and exactly as he had left it all those years ago.

The portal crackled and sparked as he turned to it, his gaze zoning in on the bright swirling mass of colour. He lost himself for a moment in its tantalising grip, let it pull him down and down into a warm hum. He hadn’t looked after himself in a long time, he realised as he swayed precariously. Food was scarce in a lot of dimensions, and sleep was a commodity he could only afford in the smallest of naps and light dozes, forever vigilant and forever ready.

He snapped out of the small lull, his mind filling with an increasing amount of dread as his body and mind seemed filled with quicksand that tightened its hold all the stronger every time he tried to pull himself up and out.

 _Give in._ The portal seemed to whisper, the voice dripping honey and full of lavish promises. It would reward him if he did as he was told, he knew, it would let him have anything. _Give in and stay with me._

 _But at what cost?_ His own inner voice broke through the flowery voice like a knife, tearing away at the dreamlike quality with a serrated blade. He stumbled back as the hold snapped entirely, his heart filling with sickening alarm as the portal flashed again, brighter and darker all at the same time, a vortex that seemed to hiss and spit at him in a vicious rage.

How dare he break free, it seemed to growl, how _dare he_.

But with the clarity of mind he now possessed he forced his feet further back, every step away bringing with it another electric link of thought process, another functioning synapse until his heart froze over and his mind recalled exactly what the voice had been trying to make him forget.

_Wasn’t I running from something when I jumped through the portal?_

Trails of ice slipped down his back in time to the pulse of the portal. He could see it changing colour, right in the centre as a shape formed on the other side. Some kind of appendage, blurry and indistinct became slowly clearer through the swirling whirlpool until a singular dark claw broke through the membrane.

He felt like the portal should pop with the intrusion. A sudden loud noise, or similar jarring sound but there was nothing but the constant pressure. The steady push of the limb coming through and showing more and more of the creature as it followed. A claw turned into two, then three as the hand emerged followed slowly by an arm. Dark green tinged skin like the bottom of the lake, scales that looked shiny and wet in the low light- _why wasn’t he moving_ -

Ford shook his head as the claws twitched, stretched into the dimension unseeingly as if sensing his presence and grasping out towards him. He gulped, tearing his eyes away from the creature that had followed him, his mind drumming up entries in his journal to try and figure out what it was that chased him so keenly. He could feel his heart beating a crescendo against his rib cage as he drew blank after blank. _Why is it following me? What did I do? Why do I keep losing track of what I’m doing?_

His breath ghosted out in a torrent of frost as another terrifying blank slipped across his mind.

_What dimension did I just come out of?_

None of it. None of it made sense. He had no recollection of where he had been, just that he had come through a portal and landed somewhere familiar. And now something was hypnotising him, keeping him locked in place the more he stared and yet the more he dragged himself away the more he felt lost, vulnerable and in a thick heavy daze that he couldn’t quite shake.

_What in the multiverse is going on?_

Something cracked under his foot, the sound sharp and ringing and made him flinch. But it dragged his attention away from the portal, the hazy fog lifting from his mind at the sudden unexpected intrusion.

His heart skipped a beat.

_It can’t be._

He’d stepped on the remains of a camp fire. There was nothing special about it, nothing overtly unique and yet something in his mind told him it was _his_ fire. He remembered vividly now, the memories seeping through his mind like water through his fingers.

He’d been resting in a glade, the mountains in the distance-

He’d lit a fire as it got colder, the night drawing in-

The portal opening beside him had been an unexpected coincidence but one he had taken as a sign it was time to go.

What were the chances that the portal would open up in the exact same spot? That his view when he had re-entered this dimension was the exact same vision he remembered seeing as he took one last look before he left it?

_It can’t be though. I haven’t been here in years._

A loud pulse brought him back to reality again and with it, his reasoning. Whatever was going on could be studied another time as a glance back at the portal caught him in the beady eyed gaze of whatever creature was following him.

Now it was time to run.

And in an instant he was gone, barrelling through undergrowth and ducking low hanging tree branches. He could barely feel his feet touching the ground with the speed he was mustering up. _Just go, keep moving, they’ll stop following soon- grow tired-_

He pushed through an opening in the bushes, his eyes darting back behind him a few more times as he listened intently for the creatures. When he heard nothing he felt the breath leave him, relief swooping through him as he turned back to the new glade-

And found the portal pulsing almost questioningly back at him.

_How did I-_

A rustle of bushes brought him back before it could drag him under its sway again. Ford glanced around quickly before scurrying up a nearby tree.

If running didn’t work, perhaps hiding would.

He took a deep breath in, locking up entirely and refusing to look down, just in case he gave himself away. In case he shifted and slipped or dropped something that made them look up.

“Rg szh gl yv sviv hlnvdsviv...dv hzd rg tl gsilfts!”

Ford frowned, his teeth gritting as he tried to stay still and ignore the curiosity. He felt he should know the language that was being hissed out of a chapped and underused throat but it was distorted and wrong. Like he was hearing it in reverse.

“Rh rg srwrmt?”

A throaty giggle made him shudder. There were two of them. He shrunk back against the tree trunk at that voice.

He didn’t need to understand to recognise the tone. It was singsong, playful even.

It wanted to have fun with this hunt.

“Urmw rg!...yirmt rg gl nv.”

The words were getting fainter, further away and less distinguishable. He chanced a glance down, ears straining to keep up with the voices, to make sure they really were leaving as he tilted forward.

Something rustled behind him.

The hairs on the back of his neck rose as his eyes widened at the feeling of being watched.

He turned slowly, feeling time crawl second by second until he was met by a face staring back at him through the trees leaves. Bright white eyes, pupils slitted and minute with a hint of crazed frenzy to them. A grin stretched impossibly wide across its face, its jaw showing row upon row of teeth that were somehow already stained.

“Ulfmw blf~”

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=2jdj6o0)

 

* * *

 

Ford’s eyes snapped open, his heart beating hard and heavy in his chest as he stared at the recognisable ceiling. He gave a deep sigh, his body relaxing into the duvet that covered him.

_Just a dream…_

He groaned, still staring dazedly upwards, before shifting and rolling over in the hopes of returning to a sleep that was less plagued by fragmented memories that twisted up his senses and made everything feel far too real.

The creature stared back at him as he rolled over, its body somehow darker than the gloom of the rest of the unlit room.

It was stood close to the bed, less than a metre away as he locked up in place, his brain short circuiting as its gaze held him down, trapped between it and the wall. It smiled at him, mouth opening again as its eyes sparkled with glee.

“Found you~” 

 

* * *

 

Ford sat up in bed with a choked off cry.

He couldn’t move. Some _thing_ was keeping him pinned down and panicking. He struggled wildly, arms lashing out against it as he jerked himself forward and almost tumbled right out of bed.

The darkness closed in around him. He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t _move_ and something- something _was in the room with him_.

His arm stretched outwards, fumbling for the light beside his bed as he felt claws reaching out towards him. The high pitch sing song voice rang through his head, toying with him, mocking him for his efforts.

He was sure he could hear a ringing childish giggle right behind his head.

The light flicked on, casting artificial light across the room that left a lot to be desired. It felt cold and lifeless against the warm tone of a camp fire but at least he could _see_.

His gun sat close to the lamp and he grabbed it in a sharp swift movement, spinning round to face the creature directly behind him-

Nothing was there.

He hadn’t even known he’d been holding his breath until he started panting, his eyes scanning the room in quick hurried glances. He took in everything- it was all as it should be. The thin layer of dust that permeated the air from lack of use, the swept areas he had gotten round to full off 6 fingered hand prints and haphazardly strewn papers. His coat hung on the back of the door where he had left it, his arms itching to wrap it round him and feel protected again but it was on the other side of the room and he had yet to place his feet off the side for fear that the floor beneath the bed was the reason he no longer saw the creature that had been looming over him only moments before.

The rational part of his brain scolded him for the childish notion of monsters under the bed.

He tried to move again but his legs still refused to obey him, still stuck fast as they had been when he woke up. Keeping his grip on the gun steady he hazarded a glance down at them, the tenseness to his shoulders and back not easing even as he realised it was his bedding, wrapped tight and constricting around him that held him in place. He’d tied himself into knots at some point but he couldn’t for the life of him think when even as he replayed the events back to himself.

A creak, jolted him back to the present. His hands shook as he shuffled closer to the wall, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the room again for the intruder.

It was only then that he realised everything was blurred.

His glasses still sat perched on the bedside cabinet innocently.

But how-? The creature had been so distinct, so sharp.

_Because it wasn’t real._

He slumped back against the wall, the sweat soaking into the back of his jumper finally making itself known along with the tremor he could feel running through him in waves.

Everything had a logical explanation.

So why did he still feel so unsafe even though the lamp cast it’s light out for him and the house creaked knowingly above him? Why did he feel the need to keep the gun in his increasingly shaking fingers?

He raked a hand through his hair, glancing back up at the ceiling as he tried to regulate his breathing, his heartbeat ignoring every call to calm.

Nothing worked. He grit his teeth against the rising panic that clawed up his throat. He scanned the room again, his thoughts a mantra- _There’s nothing here, you can see nothing’s here. You’re safe, you’re home-_ and yet still he couldn’t bring himself to move from the bed, was locked in a perpetual indecisiveness that kept him frozen in place. The part of him that was adamant that nothing was there wanted him to just sit on the edge of the bed with his feet down. Solid proof, logical and commanding in nature and sure to ease his fears. But a baser fear wanted him to jump it, to run to the other side of the room, to the safety of his coat and to the escape of the door before turning around and checking.

And yet an even smaller though somehow more powerful voice than both of those held him there, trapped on the island of his bed. Caught by the childish notion that if he couldn’t see the monster then it couldn’t see him.

Ford hadn’t even noticed the gun fall into his lap until the sharp sting of his own nails against his arms pulled him back to his senses.

_There’s nothing here, you can see nothing’s here. You’re safe, you’re **home** -_

_It’s not safe **just** because it’s home. The light lies. It lied to you before._

Ford closed his eyes as a new sharper voice broke through his calming thoughts, tearing them asunder without any resistance. He hit his head back against the wall, a soft whine of annoyance erupting out of him as he tried to escape the images flooding his brain.

This room, this house, full of light, full of engaging conversations and meditation.

This house that once spoke of companionship and scientific endeavours.

It had still been brightly lit when it had suddenly fallen down around him. When friendships turned into betrayals and scientific advances turned out to be ploys for more nefarious uses.

_Lies! All of it lies! You can’t escape. It isn’t safe here! This place is no safer than the other side of the portal! Bill is watching, always watching-_

A sudden sharp knock silenced the voice and it’s ever growing fervour.

“F-Ford? You OK in there?”

Ford stayed quiet, somehow calming slightly at the familiar voice. It was something real, something tangible against the surreal light that was surrounding him. It didn’t matter if they were still fighting, the pair of them stuck in an age old grudge even now, because in this moment his brother’s voice was grounding him to reality, keeping his swirling thoughts at bay just from talking to him.

Even so, that didn’t mean he wanted his brother to _see_ him like this.

He might still be angry at him, might still be upset but Stan- Stan would look on this scene with guilt, would blame himself and he couldn’t have that. Not when he had been so angry at him for opening the portal.

Not when he could imagine that the first thing out of his mouth if Stan knew would probably be ‘Why on earth would you be angry at me for bringing you back if that’s what you were living through?’

He didn’t want another argument, not now. He was too close to the edge. Too close to letting everything slip out. That _yes_ he was grateful, yes he was happy to be home and to meet their niblings and to stop being headhunted by Bill’s goons across the multiverse.

That _no_ that didn’t mean he wasn’t still angry, because Stan had endangered everything, everyone – himself, the twins, the _world_ – all to bring him back and he wasn’t worth that.

Too close to telling him about the rift and Bill’s plans because Stan wouldn’t listen and something would go wrong and that couldn’t happen. He had to deal with that alone otherwise the world could end and it would be all his fault.

He bit his lip and stayed quiet, curling in on himself further as the weight of that crushing responsibility added to the nightmare fuel his brain was already subjecting him to. This place, this dimension it _should_ be safe. It _was_ safe until he came along and ruined it.

He deserved this, he deserved this fear and guilt. He deserved his home to feel unsafe and insecure because it was all his doing, really, if he thought about it-

“Look, I know you’re in there and I know you’re awake. If you want me to leave just say but I’m not- I’m not going ‘til you answer me.”

Ford jumped, the room spinning slightly as his head shot up. It was giving him whiplash, this constant spiralling into his own thoughts and then being dragged back out of them into reality.

He shook his head. He needed to stay in the present, needed to throw Stan off and stop him worrying.

_I’m fine. Please leave._

There. Nice and simple. Sharp enough for Stan to snap something back and walk off without a backwards glance.

“I-I-”

So why wouldn’t the words come out?

He knew why, deep down in a small part of him that he was trying his hardest to ignore.

He had spent far too many years alone, grown used to dealing with things alone.

But that tiny part ached, sharp and poignant, sending signals he hadn’t heard in a very long time.

_I don’t want to deal with this alone, not this time._

Ford flinched as the door opened at his stuttering. Stan hadn’t been lying when he had said he wouldn’t leave until Ford said something. Apparently what he had managed to get out was enough to warrant Stan’s entry into the room.

They stared awkwardly at one another for a quick moment. Stan with his hand on the door, body hesitant and unwilling to cross the threshold even though he’d taken the plunge and opened the door. Ford couldn’t help the sharp pang of regret that added to the fire already burning him from the inside out at Stan’s expression, at the concern mixed with self-doubt that spoke volumes. The stubborn tenseness to his shoulders that said he was prepared for Ford to rip into him for his actions but that he couldn’t in good conscience leave him to it until he’d at least tried.

His own brother. Scared to come help him. What had happened between them?

He knew the answer to that. _Far too much._ But it really didn’t matter in that moment, when it was not anger that ran through him but an all-consuming shame and a vicious tremor of panic that he still couldn’t shake.

The door closed with a sharp click that brought him back as Stan stood leaning cautiously against it. He wondered what he must look like for the raw concern that his twin was showing him. He must look a state, a gun resting at his feet, curled up as tightly as he could in the corner of his bed.

A perfect cast of madness.

All over a nightmare.

God, what had happened to the wanderer who had traversed war torn lands and unknown territory without even flinching?

“Ford? You OK there, buddy?”

A small noise of anguish was all that made it passed Ford’s throat, even as he nodded. He was trying, trying so hard to push him away but it didn’t take a genius to know that he was lying.

And this was his brother he was talking about, he’d always been able to see straight through him.

“Stupid question. OK, what can I do?”

_Leave._

“And don’t tell me just to go away because that will be the dumbest thing I have ever heard and I’m pretty sure you’re meant to be the smart one.”

Ford blinked owlishly at him. Had it been that obviously written across his face. Stan was grinning at him though so if it hadn’t been his reaction said it all. For some reason it was bleeding some of the tension away, a welcome distraction he hadn’t known he’d needed. He glanced around again, checking the room for a less welcome intruder before focusing back on Stan, and the area around him.

He needed to snap out of this, needed something that would pull him out further from this entire loop and make him feel safer again, he needed-

“You need this?”

Ford felt like Stan was two steps ahead of him and quite frankly it was a godsend and troubling all in the same moment. He followed Stan’s gaze to the coat he was leaning against, not realising he’d been staring at it. It had been with him through thick and thin, contained more hidden tricks and traps than was probably strictly necessary but then again if it hadn’t he probably wouldn’t be alive right now. He nodded once, still unsure of his voice following his commands as he sat scrunched up in a ball, wishing the world would just swallow him whole and get rid of all this panic neatly.

Stan walked over to him without any preamble, coat in hand. Ford didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the measured steps, at how he was strong and determined and yet kept in Ford’s line of sight at all times. Made sure it was clear he was there to help with open gestures and a calm disposition.

He felt like he was being treated like a wild animal. But then again, with a gun within reaching distance and a memory of a crossbow being levelled at him 30 years ago, perhaps Stan had every right to be at least slightly concerned about his safety.

It didn’t seem to phase him though even as Ford seemed to impossibly lock up tighter as he stepped closer to the bed. Ford held his breath as Stan paused for a second, letting him get his bearings, not knowing that it wasn’t _him_ per say that had caused the reaction.

_What if there **is** something under the bed? What if it hurts **Stan**? I can’t- I can’t let it-_

Stan paid his minds warring no heed, taking that last fateful step to the bed as if his stubborn will to help had crushed the small voice in his mind that said he was hindering him further. In the same moment he flicked his arms up, letting the coat circle around Ford, most of it catching around his head.

Ford shuffled forwards, letting it slip down his back and encase him. His arms came up to wrap it round him tightly and breathed in the age old smell that broke through some of the festering negativity. It was heavy and solid, weapons and artefacts knocking against him and reminding him that even alone he wasn't defenceless and that was ok, that was fine, he could deal with one out of two.

He wasn’t even sure if it was the coat that was helping him so much or whether it was the fact that Stan was still standing above him in almost the exact same space that had been occupied by the creature and the sense of danger was passing quickly. That nothing had launched out at Stan’s ankles or torn him to shreds. That he could stand there looking so achingly nervous and so concerned for him was bringing the shame bubbling back up but at least the crushing responsibility, the back breaking fear was departing as the last dregs of sleep gave way.

The moment passed quickly, too quickly for his body to relax along with his mind and Stan’s face dropped guiltily. A twist of anger towards himself at his foolhardy stubbornness was clear as day to Ford as he took a step back, arms up placatingly.

And in an instant, Ford’s mantra of thoughts changed pace.

_No, don’t leave. Please. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s my head that’s messing up, not you-_

“W-wait.”

They both stared at each other for a second at the utterance, the first word Ford had managed since the exchange had started. Stan relaxed slightly, not asking him to explain much to his relief and gave into his own need to stay and protect, sitting down on the other end of the bed, close but not too close as his legs hung off the side.

Ford felt his words come streaming out, unable to resist the pull to explain, to negate the moment and make it less than it was.

“J-just a nightmare. That’s all. Sorry for-”

“Sixer, I’ve never encountered a nightmare that warrants the word ‘just’ before it. They’re called nightmares for a reason after all.”

The shame fizzled out slowly at the genuine sentiment, curiosity taking over as his eyes snapped to Stan’s back. His mind supplied answers that he couldn’t quite voice, wondering how many nights the young twins must have woken him up with similar. Wondered how he could be so steadfast in a view that was the complete opposite of how their father would have once treated the weakness they showed as children.

“Still, I’m sorry for…wait, how did you know?” Ford frowned, his mind slowly working more and more as he sat there.

“I heard you. You were, uhh…kind of loud?”

“You heard me upstairs?” Ford gasped, horror clear on his face before he covered it with his hands, self-loathing bubbling up. He was meant to be able to keep this all in check. He’d learnt, he’d had to. Otherwise things would find him as he slept. He’d alert enemies, predators, all sorts if he couldn’t keep himself quiet and still when he needed to.

Had he become so complacent?

“Did the kids-?” The words choked out, his breathing growing erratic. What would they think of him?

“Whoa, whoa, there.” Stan’s hand felt like static electricity as it hit his shoulder, grounding and protective. “No, they’re asleep. You weren’t _that_ loud, Sixer, sorry. Just loud for you. I was downstairs. I heard clattering, like you were struggling against something and I thought it was strange. Then you cried out and I couldn’t just…”

Ford nodded, taking a shaky breath. It was OK. It wasn’t that he’d been loud, it was that Stan was perceptive but still seemed unable to give himself credit for such actions. It still sat weirdly with him though. Like the puzzle pieces weren’t fitting together as they should be. He glanced up at his brother, calming further at the relieved smile he was receiving before his eyes caught sight of the watch on the arm at his shoulder and the strange feeling made itself clear. “Stan? What were you doing up at this time of night?”

Stan’s hand retracted fast, the warmth lost so quickly it made Ford wish he hadn’t asked as Stan’s face closed over slightly.

An ironic laugh cut through him and had him close to reaching out if his hands weren’t occupied by keeping the coat tight to him.

“Oh. Right. Uhh…Guess I’m not used to it still? I always said that once I got you back I’d finally be able to have a good night’s sleep, what with working in the Shack by day and working on the portal by night.” There was a pause as Stan shrugged, hand going up to rub at the back of his neck. “Guess after 30 years it’s not that easy to change your sleeping pattern. Or lack thereof.”

“Oh.” Ford hadn’t even noticed. Had barely registered that whenever he came up from the basement, Stan was either sitting watching TV or making himself a drink in the night. He hadn’t thought that he just wasn’t going to bed, had assumed he was catching him in small moments out of the norm.

“It’s the truth.” Stan shifted uneasily at his lack of a response, as if worried his actions might be taken differently. Ford frowned at the movement. Perhaps Stan didn’t want the conversation deflected on to him in that moment. “Don’t go getting angry at me now just for being in the right place at the right time. I just don’t sleep all that well now…you know?”

Ford snorted, looking down at himself before raising an eyebrow at his brother. “I think the answer to that is quite obvious.”

Stan huffed back at him, rubbing a hand over his face as he nodded. “Fair.”

If Ford hadn’t been listening he might have missed the second part as he muttered to himself.

“I mean I do feel the need to check you’re actually here sometimes…”

Ford watched him quietly for a few moments, his mind clicking through that perhaps it wasn’t the kid’s nightmares that made Stan so receptive to looking after people through theirs.

Stan seemed to catch on that Ford was studying him and shook off whatever it was he was thinking about. “Anyway, you feeling better now? You should probably try and get some more sleep.”

Ford grimaced, looking around the small room that seemed to shrink around him as Stan spoke. Just the thought of being left alone made his breath hitch again. “I’m not so sure sleep will be that forthcoming actually.”

“I can stay? If you want, just until you fall asleep. Like when we were kids.”

Ford noted the awkward hesitance, the years between them opening up again. He shook his head, not looking over at Stan. “No, I really don’t think I’ll be sleeping. You should though. Try and sleep that is.”

He slumped slightly as Stan stood up, mentally preparing himself to dealing alone again in the suffocating space once he’d gone until a hand entered his field of vision. He glanced upwards at his brother who still held a soft tentative smile.

“Nah, I’m not up for sleeping either tonight. How about we go see what rubbish sci-fi or horror movies are on this late at night and you can tell me how wrong they are based on all your nerdy research?”

“But- you have work-”

“Ford, I’ve done more strenuous work most nights for the last 30 years before working again in the morning.” Stan’s hand hit his still tightly clenched one. “I’m pretty sure watching daft movies with my brother is going to be a lot easier to deal with in the morning than getting that portal working.”

Ford stared at the hand for a few more seconds, grabbing it just as Stan’s face dropped and he looked about ready to withdraw the invitation and make another self-deprecating joke that Ford would be hard placed to ignore.

He gave it a tight squeeze as Stan helped him up, tightening the other around his coat so it didn’t fall off.

“Thanks, Stan.”

“For what? I haven’t done anything.” Stan shrugged, dropping his hand and clapping him on the back before walking to the door and opening it. He looked ready to say more, the argument on the tip of his tongue though he didn’t seem to have the energy to keep that up either. “Well, not right now, I haven’t done anything, anyway.”

“Yeah, you did. You did a lot. Thanks.”

Stan’s face seemed a mix of emotions, worrying his lip as he tried to respond. He sniffed, giving his signature grin as he turned away from his brother.

“Stop being sappy, nerd, it doesn’t suit you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Woo! I hope you enjoyed ^^ I had a lot of fun with the prompt of ‘dealing with nightmares’ but i didn’t wanna alert you guys to the fact that it was a nightmare straight away haha ♥ I’m not sure I made the second tier nightmare creepy enough considering it was based on my own experiences but believe me, thinking you’ve got away from a creature and then turning round and it’s in your room is god damn horrid. *shudder* I’m glad that one hasn’t been back in a while.
> 
> Reminder - artwork was by @garrulousgibberish so go check out their other works ♥


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